Dare to Love (3 page)

R
iley walked into the main office of Blunt Sporting Goods, a manufacturer and retailer where she’d been employed since she was seventeen. She’d worked her way up from sales to store manager until she was ultimately drafted into their corporate headquarters after college. She worked hard, earned good money, and best of all, loved her job. She was in charge of distribution and knew how to get their goods into the right hands. Too bad all those years of loyal service were now threatened by a sale to new owners.

When Jerry Blunt had decided to retire and travel with his wife, he’d sold the once-family-owned business to a pompous jerk who’d withheld his intentions of cleaning house and bringing in fresh new talent, as he called his hires, until the final papers were signed.

He brought in all his own people for lead jobs, which Riley grudgingly admitted made sense. But he also sought to hire new people from outside the company, those willing to work for less money. He didn’t give the long-standing, once-valued workers a chance to prove their worth. Many older employees with families to support were let go and they’d have a tough time getting a new job for the same pay.

It sucked, Riley thought, and she wanted to at least try and save her department. To do so, she had to prove to her new boss that she could run things well and efficiently and make him money. Sadly, he wasn’t the type to listen, and every day, more people left with their belongings in a box, escorted out by security.

When her intercom rang, calling her in to see the new boss, Riley had no doubt she would be the next one out the door. She flexed her fingers and rose, taking the stairs to the next floor, using the time to give herself a pep talk before approaching Franklin O’Mara.

“Go on in,” Gail, his personal secretary, also new to the company, said. “He’s expecting you.”

“Thanks.” She stepped into his office.

In his forties with a receding hairline and paunch in his stomach, he epitomized the lazy executive, and it killed Riley to see the company she loved be destroyed by someone who didn’t see the value of the employees he’d inherited.

“Ms. Taylor.” He held a file in his hand, no doubt filled with her evaluations and track record at the company.

“Mr. O’Mara.” She waited until he gestured for her to be seated before nodding and settling into the chair across from his massive desk.

“I’m sorry to say, we’ll be letting you go.”

She swallowed hard. “I understand your new corporate policy involves bringing in fresh talent,” she began.

“Then you understand it’s nothing personal. We’ll give you a good severance package and references. Marge in HR will discuss the details with you.”

“What if I told you I could get you access to the Miami Thunder?” she asked, grasping at the first—and clearly most absurd—thing that came to mind.

No doubt because Ian Dare, president of the Miami Thunder, who kissed like a dream, had been in her dreams day and night since their hookup Saturday night.

O’Mara’s eyes lit up with interest. “Keep talking.”

She ran her tongue along the inside of her dry mouth, wishing she could take back her words. For one thing, Alex would kill her. For another, she didn’t even have access to the man.

But she had a department of employees whose jobs and welfare depended on this one Hail Mary. “I have a personal connection with Ian Dare.” The lip-lock they’d shared was very personal, she thought, suppressing a shiver.

“Go on.”

She crossed her fingers in her lap and continued. “I’ve been planning on talking to him about changing suppliers for his team’s inventory, or at least giving us a shot. I figured once he sees we’re reliable and our deals are solid, maybe he’ll throw more business our way.”

She twisted her fingers, hoping he didn’t notice how badly she was panicking as she spoke. Even she knew football teams had major multi-year contracts with big companies, but the words were out, and there was no taking them back.

“Now that’s a way to put yourself on my radar.” He nodded approvingly. “Okay, talk to him. You have until Friday noon. No deal? I’m bringing in my people.”

Riley rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said, extending her hand for his sweaty handshake, then turned and headed for the door.

“Noon Friday,” he reminded her as she let herself out.

For the return trip to her office, Riley took the elevator, unsure her legs would support her on the walk down. She didn’t want to lose her job, but unless she could reach Ian Dare and talk him into doing business with her, she’d be unemployed, unable to afford her rent, car payment, student loans, and other assorted bills. Even Alex would understand how her utter panic over the possibility had led her to Ian.

She hoped.

She leaned against the elevator wall and groaned. Thanks to her bluster and big mouth, her job was in Ian Dare’s very sexy hands.

*     *     *

For the week following his father’s party, Ian was tied up in preparation for the football draft. Agents trying to pitch their best players, to trade their unhappy players, to work the system and his team to their advantage. This year, the annual event was being held in Ian’s hometown of Miami, at his father’s flagship hotel, which meant he’d have to be on guard while he was there. Dealing with Robert Dare’s attempts at reconciliation could only distract him from business.

He was so inundated meeting with his general manager and scouts, he only returned calls relating to deals, ignoring all others, including his mother and siblings.

When he finally sat down to eat and listen to all his messages, he was shocked to hear the sexy voice he dreamed about at night.

“Hi, Ian. It’s Riley Taylor. We—umm—met at your father’s birthday party this past weekend. I have something important I’d like to discuss with you. My number is…” He listened to the rest of the message, absently jotting down her information while focusing on her voice.

Strong and husky, her tone aroused him all over again, but he also noticed a tremor as she spoke, which made him wonder if the memory of their kiss haunted her as much as it did him. Since Saturday night, he’d alternated between cursing his half brother for interrupting and being grateful for the reminder that this woman had loyalties in direct conflict with him.

As an adult, Ian hated the notion of considering Alex competition, but the past couldn’t be changed. When their father had had a choice to make, he’d picked Alex and his siblings, not Ian and his. They’d had him for concerts, sporting events, and graduations. Maybe not all his father’s so-called hotel travel had been a lie, but there was no doubt who’d gotten short shrift when it came to having a dad. And though Ian had stepped up for his siblings, nothing could replace the gaping hole Robert Dare had left them with, both when they were ignorant of the other family and after he’d moved out.

So yes, Alex had always been a rival. First for their father’s affection, then as the star quarterback of the Thunder’s biggest competition, and now for a woman Ian barely knew. Even if that kiss had made him think they had a connection, her withdrawal afterward had made a bigger statement. This woman had gotten to him, something no other could claim. He wouldn’t be giving her another opening. He might be curious as to what she wanted and why she’d reach out to him, but he couldn’t afford to care.

He allowed himself a few last lingering thoughts of Riley, the fruity taste of her glossed lips and the sound of her soft moans reverberating through him. Then he picked up the paper on which he’d written down her number, crushed it into a ball, and tossed it in the trash.

*     *     *

For the first two days of the draft, Ian managed to miss bumping into his old man but knew his luck wouldn’t hold out. Sure enough, Saturday morning, Robert intercepted him on his way to a breakfast meeting at the restaurant.

“Ian!” His father strode up to him, dressed in a suit and tie, happy as if he owned the world.

Ian inclined his head. “Good morning. I can’t talk. I’m late for a meeting.”

His father stared at him with knowing eyes. Eyes the same gray as his own. “I won’t keep you. But I was disappointed I didn’t get to talk to you at the party the other night.”

“I was there. Only because Avery and Olivia asked me to come,” he deliberately added.

Avery, his youngest sister, had been a bone marrow donor for their father’s other daughter, Sienna—Sienna’s illness being the only reason Robert Dare had revealed his cheating, lying ways. He’d needed to see if any of his legitimate children were matches. The girls had bonded over the experience, accepting them as family. Ian didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t hate his half siblings, he just wanted nothing to do with them. But unlike his father, he’d sworn to be there for his family, so when the girls had asked him to attend the party for them, he’d agreed.

“And I’m grateful you attended. A man never knows how many years he has left,” Robert said.

Ian rolled his eyes at the dramatic statement. “You’re healthy, and you’ll probably outlive us all.” He deliberately glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get inside.” He tipped his head toward the restaurant.

“Maybe we can have lunch or dinner?” the older man asked, hope in his eyes.

Ian shook his head. “Like I said, I’ve got meetings.”

Shadows crossed his father’s face, and Ian did his best not to feel guilty.

“Fine, but I’ll keep trying, you know.”

Ian straightened his shoulders. “It’s too late for that too.” He turned away and stepped toward the restaurant entrance when he heard his name being called and turned.

This time it was Alex rushing to catch up to him.

His father hadn’t left, and he greeted his other son, not bothering to excuse himself as Alex strode up to Ian.

“You’re such a selfish prick,” Alex said, getting into his face. “Would it have killed you to return her phone calls and see what she had to say?”

Ian immediately knew he was talking about Riley. “You’re the one who made it clear she should have nothing to do with me, so what’s up your ass now?”

“She left you a message, right? Said she had something important to discuss? And you couldn’t be bothered to call?” Alex asked, jaw held tight.

In that instant, Ian saw shades of his father in Alex’s younger face. It had been awhile since the blood connection between them had hit him so strongly. And damn but it hurt.

“Would one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” Robert asked, interrupting them.

Alex straightened his shoulders. “Riley called him this week. She needed a favor and asked him to call her back. He didn’t.”

“I was busy,” Ian said, suddenly feeling a combination of guilt and overriding concern. “It’s draft week, not that I owe you an explanation. Besides,
you
made it clear I should back off.” Ian wasn’t above sharing the blame when warranted.

Alex ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the bulging muscles in his neck. “She’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”

“What did she need from me?” Ian asked, ignoring any reference to how close Riley and Alex were. Even if it was friendship, it had come between Ian and the woman he wanted. He found it difficult to contain his jealousy.

Alex paused, looking torn, before he said, “It’s not my story to tell, and besides, it’s too late anyway.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ian asked.

“Is Riley okay?” Robert demanded. “I care about that girl like a daughter.”

“As if you don’t have enough of those,” Ian muttered.

His father’s face blanched, his skin color leaching out. “She practically lived in our house growing up. If something’s wrong, I want to know.”

“You know Riley. She’s always okay or pretends to be,” Alex said. “She’s independent and proud and you know it. You also know why. It took enough for her to call
him
.” Alex jerked a finger at Ian.

“But if one of us can help—” Robert said, only to be cut off by the abrupt swinging of Alex’s hand.

“Let her handle her own shit. I’ve learned it’s the only way to keep her in my life.”

Alex turned back to Ian. “I came here because I was furious, and you deserved to know you fucked up. But it’s too late now. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

There were so many questions raised by Alex’s statement Ian didn’t know where to begin. From her always pretending to be okay, to her being proud and independent, Alex and their father were privy to why. Ian wasn’t.

But he wanted to know. Needed to understand her even if it meant digging deeper than she’d be comfortable with. He was also smart enough not to ask questions his half brother wouldn’t answer.

“Give me her number,” Ian said. “The least I can do is apologize.”

Alex scowled at him. “Go to hell. She doesn’t need your help anymore. And she sure as hell doesn’t need to be another one of your conquests.”

“Hey.” Ian grabbed his shoulder.

Alex shrugged him away. “Back off.”

“Just give me her damned number.”

“Not happening, and don’t think you can look her up in the phone book. She’s unlisted.”

With that, he stormed off, leaving Ian where he’d started, about to walk away from his father.

Before he could take leave, his father placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder, surprising him and causing an old memory to surface. Robert, getting ready to leave for a business trip, wearing a suit, and placing his hand on ten-year-old Ian’s shoulder. “Take care of your mother and siblings, son.”

At the time, Ian had been puffed up and proud his father trusted him with the job. Looking back, the request was as much of an illusion as his childhood had been. No ten-year-old could possibly take on that responsibility. It was just something a parent said to make his kid feel important. But the reality was, that had been Ian’s job for way too long.

He stood stiffly, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of shoving him away, and waited for him to finish.

“You all don’t have to pay for my sins, son. You could get to know each other. You could be brothers.”

His suit jacket suddenly too tight, Ian broke into an uncomfortable sweat. “What part of that conversation indicated either of us wants that?”